


Sands of Time

by Arura



Category: The Hobbit
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arura/pseuds/Arura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon the Western Shore, there is a haven where all go to rest.  Old friends from days long past, memories of prime existence and happiness can be found in abundance.  What will the old Bilbo Baggins, retired burglar and novelist, find out there?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sands of Time

 

Bilbo had fallen asleep again. Being as old as he was, despite his excitement of another and more final adventure, the fellow just could not keep his eyes open. His nephew, Frodo, grinned fondly at Bilbo and gently stroked his silver hair as he slept. The two, very privileged, hobbits were on their way to the White Western Shore, along with the company of the elves, one dwarf and one wizard. Frodo seemed more relieved to be on such a quest, though his lips admitted a subtle happiness, his bright eyes admitted a sadness still. Already he missed his friends, however, Frodo knew that they would be alright. If Samwise could find happiness again, surely Merry and Pipen would be able to as well. Frodo had to believe in that. 

It seemed like a long journey, Bilbo awoke at some points of the trip to ask if they were there yet. Already the old hobbit's body began to lighten and become more energetic, though Bilbo was still convinced he was too old to move much. Frodo kept assuring Bilbo that they would get there soon enough, even though Frodo himself had no idea how much longer it would take. 

Gimli seemed fairly anxious, Legolas seemed fairly amused by the dwarf's fidgity behavior. Gandalf had his pipe in hand, a thin colum of smoke escaped his lips and transformed into butterflies as they passed by over Frodo's head. Frodo wandered over towards Gimli, leaning on the railing while looking over at him.

"Why so nervous, Gimli?" Frodo managed to speak up.

"I am anxious to see my kin again, Master Hobbit," Gimli admitted openly. "My cousin Balin, my father Gloin, and many others. Perhaps I could meet the rest of his company, and you could certainly join me on such a reunion."

Frodo grinned, "I wonder if my parents will be there. I was so young when they died. Surely they would recognize me?"

Gimli only gave him a smiling glance with his eyes then turned his gaze back towards the water along the ship. The sound of a cane tapped along the deck of the ship as Bilbo waddled his way to and from either side of the railing, taking his time to satisfy his curiosity. Gandalf watched Bilbo, feeling a warm sense of affection all over again. Bilbo seemed to be his old self again. No longer haunted by the one ring's grip, Bilbo's clouded eyes seemed to have brightened a bit, though not completely just yet.

Finally the shore was in sight. The white sand seemed so perfect, surely it was cloth instead of fine ground stone. The Hobbits were granted to be first to get off of the ship, then Gimli, then Gandalf. Bilbo struggled at first, for slopes were no longer on his side for crickety old knees. Frodo helped his uncle by holding his elbow and hand securely. Their bare feet touched the fine sand of the beach. In the misty distance, movement could be heard and figures began to appear. Frodo flinched at the realization but Bilbo had nothing to fear. 

"Be still, my boy," Gandalf's voice was soft and comforting while he placed his large hand on the small hobbit's shoulder. "Only friends and kin reside on these shores."

Frodo breathed and grinned as his grip on Bilbo relaxed. Perhaps Frodo was still jumpy, despite his four year rest prior to this journey. Then Frodo saw them. His eyes lit up, tears filled them as he stared. Frodo's father, Drogo Baggins and Primula, his mother. The young hobbit glanced at his Uncle Bilbo as if to ask for confirmation on what he was seeing. Bilbo smiled and nodded to the boy.

"I'll be alright, Frodo my lad. Go on."

Bilbo watched with a heart full of pride as Frodo ran to the smiling parents, with each step it seemed Frodo became smaller, his voice became higher. Soon Drogo scooped his son up into his arms with a heart felt laughter that would warm the coldest of hearts. Frodo had turned twelve years of age again and he was embraced tightly amongst his parents. A tear fell down Bilbo's cheek as he watched this magic unfold and breathed carefully as to not make a sound. With a trembling hand, he rubbed those happy tears away from his wrinkled face. Frodo had returned to his care-free self, absolutely pure and incredibly happy. 

As the elves descended onto the shore, more and more folk appeared to great their arriving counter part. Bilbo watched nearly every reunion, clutching onto his cane with both hands as he stood there, grinning softly with a touch of envy. His old ears caught the sound of Gimli's delighted yell and turned his head and squinted a bit. Gimli found Balin, one of Bilbo's old friends from his youth. He had a thought of approaching them, but he dared not interrupt Gimli's utter joy for the moment. Gandalf remained at Bilbo's side for the longest time and wondered when the once infamous burglar would wander off to search for someone he knew.

"Who are you looking for, old friend?" Gandalf finally asked. "Part of your old company is standing right over there."

Bilbo took a deep breath, "Oh, I couldn't deprive Mr. Gimli of his reunion."

"Pish-posh," Gandalf muttered. "Go over there before one of your ancestors snatches you up. Go on." the wizard urged his friend to move with a gently push to his shoulder. 

Bilbo did hesitate at first, but attempted to walk with aid of his cane. Slowly but surely, he managed to approach Balin and Gloin along with a rightfully glad Gimli. Though Bilbo's age did not reverse as his nephew's did. Perhaps his body had longer to go. It took Balin a moment of study, then the old dwarf opened his arms up with a smile.

"Master Baggins!" Balin cheered and embraced Bilbo kindly. 

Bilbo smiled and admitted a light hearted laugh as he reached around the Lord of Moria and patted his back softly. 

"Mr. Baggins?" a young voice reached Bilbo ears. 

Bilbo turned his attention away from wise Balin and looked off to the side.

"My, look at you!" a young dwarf was a yellow beard smiled at him. "You've gotten old my friend."

"Fili," Bilbo breathed and smiled as wide as he could, reaching for the young dwarf's cheek to pat. "You are as I remembered you."

"And me too, I would hope," said the voice behind Fili. It was Kili, with a rather impish smirk on his face.

"Oh, both of you!" Bilbo cheered and offered an embrace to both of them, who complied eagerly.

Both brothers chose to hug the hobbit together,their beards rested on either side of Bilbo's neck, careful not to crush him, but the hug was firm enough. Clearly they were both genuinely happy to see Bilbo. It almost surprised Bilbo that the brothers did not smell of dirty blood or fouled leather due to the war. They smelt clean, fresh. As a royal should, Bilbo supposed.

"Though you are much smaller than we remember you," mentioned Kili, but Bilbo knew it was from a great deal of affection.

It was true, age had shrank the Burglar several inches. However, among his long lost friends, Bilbo felt his spine finally straighten and give him some height back.

"Uncle would be happy to hear that you're here, Mr. Baggins," said Fili, who gave Bilbo's shoulder a pat.

Suddenly what color the old hobbit had faded from his face, "Th-thorin is h- Well of coarse he's here, but..." Bilbo felt a hint of dread, his mind became more alert, his vision starting to clear up as well. But he was still so old! White frayed hair, pale eyed and could barely walk by himself as it was. Fili and Kili picked up on Bilbo's anxiety with a confused frown, then they looked at each other but grinned all the same with a gentle understanding. 

"We managed to recognize you, Mr. Baggins," assured Kili.

"Thorin would know his good friend when he sees him," added Fili.

Bilbo looked down from their encouragement and considered their words. It was not like he and Thorin parted on bitter terms, the Mountain King made sure their departure ended in friendship before his breath drew final. Yet that nervousness still took hold of him. Balin glanced over with a twinkling smile of understanding. Despite Bilbo's trembling, more members of the old Company emerged. Ori, Nori and Dori appeared, which Bilbo had no fear of, but greeted with delight. Gimli was more than honored to meet anyone from the Oakenshield Company and shook their hands firmly.

There was a breath to be had as Bilbo wandered back towards the beach, convinced his age would kick back in at any moment. This sensation was not a stranger to Bilbo, for when he reached passed the age of one hundred, the fluctuation between youthful energy and the humbling crash from such things often haunted his bones and head. He clutched his white ash cane and decided to stand and gaze out into the ocean to admire the horizon. Bilbo enjoyed the gentle breeze on his face, which helped his old lungs breath in deeply and held the air for a time and savored it. Gandalf had disappeared, but that never surprised Bilbo. For he learned a long time ago that Wizards did as they wished.

The loudness of reunion started to die down after a while. The peoples on the the shore began to decend further into the lush land beyond the beach. The cheerful voices of the dwarves faded off as Gimli was escorted to where his kin had rested for all these years. Frodo and his parents disappeared, which gave Bilbo a sense of peace. Bilbo was in no hurry. He only waddled down the white beach, taking his time to get there. Silver foam and water licked at his bare ankles and tickled his toes. His mind went over the words he had written down in his book as he did so, seeing what he could remember of his own novel. He hummed songs and muttered the lyrics to himself as his toes kicked at the water gently. 

"Far over, the Misty Mountain cold.  
To Dungeons deep and caverns old.  
We must away, ere break of day..."

Oh bother, his memory had faded. Now it bothered Bilbo. He repeated the words to himself in such a strenuous effort to recall the words. He sighed at himself, "Curse my age."

"To find our long forgotten gold." 

That voice was someone else's and Bilbo knew exactly who. His head lifted up from his path and looked behind him. There he was: Thorin Oakenshield, as majestic and fierce looking like Bilbo remembered. Polished armor, with a cloak that was edged with fur that gave Thorin's shape a larger illusion. His treasured sword of ironic forge was at his hip, the Arkenstone upon his brow in the setting of a crown. Bilbo felt himself stiffen as he stared at the Mountain King. No words came to him, only the need to gawk and gape at the well remembered warrior. His cane was dropped and swept away by the silvery shore, Bilbo managed to stand there and very still.

Thorin began to tread towards Bilbo, his black hair giving way to the breeze that often graced the beautiful beach. Old Bilbo finally composed himself and stook stiff steps of his own. Thorin looked well, he seemed rested at least. That habitual warrior's gaze remained on his face, but there was also a softness to it, a peacefulness. The hobbits steps began to slow down, his head lowered as he bent his elderly body to a bow. By this time, Bilbo could see the metal capped tips of Thorin's boots.

"Bilbo Baggins," rang in the hobbit's ears, that low gruff voice he missed for so long. "You needn't bow your head to me."

Bilbo felt the grace of rough fingertips against his wrinkled face as he gathered the courage to straighten himself. Their eyes met. Humble earthy brown meeting a fiercely sky blue. Tears filled Bilbo's eyes as he stared at Thorin, he tried so hard to bite the water back but no such luck came to be. The King tilted his head at Bilbo, but grinned softly. 

"My dearest friend... Why do you weep?"

Bilbo did his best to grin, but his body shook too badly. "Forgive me." Bilbo choked, "I have held onto these tears for so long, and yet I can carry them no longer. They are too heavy, My Lord. Forgive me."

A hand pressed against Bilbo's cheek, his small hands gripped at the King's wrist weakly as the inner dam of emotion broke apart. 

"Is that why you linger on this beach? Your tears burden you so?"

Bilbo eyes squinted through plump droplets of water at Thorin, his face becoming more wet by the moment. "Perhaps," the hobbit breathed his answer.

The Dwarven King grinned slightly and knelt to his companion, scooping the fine white sand in his hand. "Hold still," he told the former Burglar.

Bilbo stiffened himself again, forcing his breathing to calm down. Thorin, in the oddist of behavior, dusted Bilbo's cheeks with the sand and spread it about his face carefully. The sand clung to the Hobbit's wet face rather easily and painlessly. Bilbo closed his eyes as this happened, his eyebrows tensed with curiosity. It was after he felt Thorin's broad hands rub the wet sand off of his face that Bilbo dared to look at him again. 

"There you are." The King sounded as though he had found something he had lost. "That is the burglar I knew." Thorin's expression softened as he brushed the last bit of sand away from Bilbo's face.

Bilbo was confused, but reached up to his own cheek. There were no wrinkles. The Hobbit looked at the back of his hands and found no protruding veins or age spots. They were as they were those many years ago. The day he set out on his life altering, and never fully regretted journey. He looked up at Thorin, amazed at such an ability.

"It seems age had tarnished you a bit, Master Baggins," Thorin straightened. "So fortunate the sands here are excellent at polishing such things away."

With that, the Hobbit embraced his friend. Bilbo enjoyed the feeling of the cool metal against his temple and cheek. He inhaled the familiar scent of the fur, the natural musk of Thorin's body gave him such comfort. Strong arms wrapped around Bilbo's rejuvenated body and held it firmly.  
"I've missed you so terribly, Thorin," Bilbo managed to breathe.

"As did I, my Halfling. As did I."


End file.
